Fake Smiles Lie
by Reiven
Summary: Gen-fic. The people he killed normally had one thing in common: they all spoke of how beautiful Shigi was, at least once.


_Standard disclaimer applies._

**Note**: I've only read the manga up to volume 4, so I'm not sure if more of Shigi's past has been revealed. Please do be informed that this story contains **SPOILERS!** for Shigi's character background and what takes place may or may not be based on canonical facts.

This story was requested by _seraphgren_ at _fic on demand_ livejournal community.

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**Fake Smiles Lie**  
_By Reiven_

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"_What a beautiful boy." _

"_Such a smooth, clear complexion." _

"_How lovely." _

People always say the same thing the first time they lay eyes on Shigi. None ever have a chance to say it for a second time though, as their blood splatters to the ground and against walls; their eyes staring unseeing at the boy who stands over them, the pleasant smile on his face betrayed by the blood drenched weapon he held in his hands.

"Now that's just cruel, even by my standards," Hien said, glancing once over the scene of the massacre.

"I showed them more mercy then they deserved," he replied, wiping the blade of his numchuck-like weapon with a piece of cloth he picked up from one of the bodies. "At least they're not in pain now."

"And when you sliced through their throat?"

"Oh, they felt ever bit of pain then," he smiled, as if he were talking about the weather with his hot-headed subordinate.

"Uruki's going to be feeling even more pain than he could possibly imagine when I get my hands on him!" Hien growled, eyes narrowed and the soldiers flanking their two youthful superiors wisely backed away.

"Don't you mean when you get your _hand _on him? Seeing as…" he trailed off knowingly, head tilted slightly to one side.

"Shut up! That bastard cheated! If he hadn't used such a cruel, underhanded trick, I would have now served up his head on a silver platter! When I get my hands on him, he's going to wish for a swift and painless death!"

"With that said, it makes no sense that we're still lingering around here. We need to make camp before night falls," Shigi said, walking towards where he horse was being held by one of the soldiers. "The Miko and her group mustn't have gotten very far. Perhaps we can still pick up on their trail."

The mention of the Genbu priestess sent Hien into another of his Uruki related tirades and Shigi wisely tuned him out. Although, by now he was already used to his companion's short-temper and lashing tongue. More than one occasion had he seen Hien on the verge of talking back even to the Crown Prince, and the one time he'd accidentally let it slip, the man had replied with an amused chuckle, much to Shigi's amazement. It wasn't his faked kindness that shocked him, though, it was the fact that he felt that he needed to fake anything at all. His previous masters never hid the fact that they possessed ownership over him; as far as they were concerned, Shigi belonged to them, and they had every right to do as they pleased, to take whatever they wanted. His body, his soul, his virginity and eventually, his manhood.

He was familiar with the feeling of being used and manipulated, but never had he not been 100 percent sure of the person's actual intent. Ever since small, his mind had been drilled with the fact that one does not talk back to a superior no matter what the circumstances. He was all too familiar with the mind set of the people in charge then; if you weren't in control, you were nothing. If you didn't lead, you didn't matter. Those who didn't play the game, died.

But Shigi didn't die. He survived. It didn't matter what they had done to him, how they had scarred him, he was still here today, alive; they were dead. Their blood staining the ground and their eyes staring blankly out to the horizon, like these bodies now staring at him through dull and lifeless eyes. The one thing all these people had in common?

They all spoke of how beautiful Shigi was, at least once.

But after years of hearing that word being uttered by more than one person and being forced to swallow back his tears as yet another of his master's men slipped into bed with him, Shigi grew indifferent to words and feelings. Shigi was a person born a man and cursed with the face of a woman; but when his master took away the only proof of his manhood, he decided that nothing mattered anymore.

There were only two things in this world that were infinite in Shigi's eyes; birth and death. The summoning (and indirect rebirth) of Genbu was something Shigi vowed to stop even though it would cost him his life and the death of the priestess was something he wanted to bring with his own two hands. It was a promise he'd made to the prince and to himself. After all, he owed the prince his life and back then, he'd said; however worthless it had been.

"Are you ignoring me?!"

He shook away the thoughts and turned to look into the blazing eyes of his companion. "No, I just wasn't really listening," he replied as a matter of fact.

"And the difference of that being?"

"If I was ignoring you, it would have meant that I don't care what you have to say. As it were, I was just thinking of other matters."

If Hien was startled by the fact that Shigi said that he cared about what he had to say, he didn't let it on. "Fine. Let's get going. No use wasting time in this cursed place waiting for the bodies to rot."

Shigi watched as Hien mounted his horse, the stump that had once been his hand resting uselessly on his lap and a thought struck him; Hien had never, not since the first time they met, ever commented on Shigi's looks. Sure, he had on more that one occasion called him a pretty boy and made cynical remarks in reference to womanly behaviour (Shigi mentally noted that that remark seemed to have come back to haunt him, considering the fact that he had lost his arm to a woman who turned out to be a man) but he had not once said it with any intention other than as an insult and in some ways, although he'd never admit it, Shigi was glad for that.

He moved towards his horse, taking the reins in one hand and was about to mount his steed when he felt a tug on the hem of his trousers. Looking down, he stared into the pitiful, helpless gaze of some poor soul that had evidentially survived the onslaught.

The elderly man, he seemed about the same age as Shigi's previous master, stared up fearfully at the mild mannered youth; the sun shining down reflected off the bald patch in the middle of the man's head.

Shigi felt Hien's eyes on his back and turned his head to meet his gaze. Although his eyes showed nothing, the smile ever present on his face, his hand moved to unsheathe the dagger he kept beneath his cloak and with one swift movement, he sliced the blade clean across the man's throat. Without another breath or even managing a gasp, he dropped back to the ground, dead even before his head collided with the dirt.

"I doubt he felt that," Hien said with a hint of sarcasm, sparing a smirk at Shigi who had just pulled himself up onto his horse.

"Hm, I must be losing my touch," he replied. "Better luck next time."

Hien laughed and Shigi could barely hold back a soft chuckle.

_The end._

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I hope I didn't mess up their characterisation. I should get more into the Genbu Kaiden fandom, what with all those bishies just ripe for the picking and ficcing.


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